Angels And Demons
by cookiemonsterfanatic
Summary: What if Olivia had a different upbringing? Groomed as a B613 agent and perfected as the Republican's greatest weapon. Will anyone be able to drag her from the darkness she conceals herself?


**CHAPTER 1 – Tell Me I'm Your National Anthem**

**:: Lana Del Rey – National Anthem ::**

Recently Fitz had discovered found that anything would set off a disagreement with his wife. The recent argument had been sparked by his forced reluctance to wear the blue tie to match his wife's blue suit dress. All leading to her changing her outfit, while muttering insults and sending him angered glares. With the blessing to wear as he damn well pleased.

Now Mellie found the excuse of talking to the Prime Minister of Britain's wife about her newborn. If anything, it was almost impressive how Mellie played her part.

Fitz wasn't really bothered as he languidly sipped at his scotch and tried to listen to the Ambassador's proposition for a hunting session. Instead, his eyes would search the room to amuse himself. This time, his perusal was stopped at the sight of Cyrus on the edge of the dance floor.

James' absence would mean that his Chief of Staff would be making himself invisible and hanging by the open bar. However, Fitz was surprised when finding his closest friend dancing with an extraordinarily beautiful woman. He found himself straightening up, craning his head to study the figure-hugging dress she had on. It was more daring with a strapless line and a wide train, capturing attention when Cyrus led her around the floor.

"Mr. President?"

"Mmm..." he dragged his gaze back onto the ambassador.

Casting one glance towards his wife, he found relief in her engaging in yet another frivolous conversation with President's wife. He exhaled, appease that Mellie hadn't noticed - then again would she even care?

Meanwhile, on the other side of the large hall, a frustrated Cyrus kept a firm hold on the young woman in his arms. It had been 10 years since he'd set eyes on her and it was still too soon.

"What are you doing here?" he snubbed, fighting against the need to express his power in calling for the guards.

His ex-student smirked and tilted her chin up to meet his angered eyes. "Networking" she answered simply, allowing him to lead her further away from the President. "And visiting an old friend" Olivia assured with an innocent smile. Her eyes drifted away from Cyrus' and scanned the room briefly. "Where's James?"

"It's his turn to look after the baby" he replied dryly.

She grinned deviously, a dangerous gleam in her stare. "Oh yes, congratulations"

"I got your card" Cyrus offered snidely. During the christening, the dropped champagne glass had been indication enough that something was wrong. No one else knew that the loving message in the expertly crafted card had been underlying threat. Instead, they defined his paranoia and apprehension to parenthood jitters.

"How is parenthood?"

"I don't know, ask James"

He knew well enough than to turn away from the devil incarnated. His attempts at reading her expression were futile as she remained calm and composed. A perfect picture opposing the erratic nervous mess that he was.

"You can't play with me Cyrus. I know how much you love...what's her name?"

"Ella"

She nodded excitedly. "Baby El-la" she pronounced clearly. "How wonderful" she cheered.

Cyrus' falsified grin wavered and his eyes hardened as he gritted through clenched teeth. "What do you want, Olivia?"

"Like I said, networking" his supposed 'protégé' answered and then leaned into his embrace. Her arm around his shoulders, teasing his collar as she pressed her red lips to his ear. "Unless you want me back on your payroll?" she whispered.

He yanked himself back, away from her intimate touch. "We both know that you never worked for me" he growled.

"Are you still singing that tune? You sound like a broken record and I think we both know, that I did you a favour" Olivia spieled, enjoying how easy it was to rile him up. "And don't get all high and mighty here Cyrus, I don't see you crying for your long lost love. Laying flowers on her grave and mourning the life you could have had" she hissed and arched a questioning brow.

Cyrus stopped dancing and dropped his hands. His expression impassive and controlled as he did a quick survey of the room before turning his attention back to her. "Did he send you? Did Rowan-"

Before he could throw any more accusations, they were interrupted.

"Cyrus!"

Both turned to the man of the hour. His strides were long and confident, commanding attention of everyone as he kept his head up and his shoulders back. Olivia couldn't help but lick her bottom lip and make an obvious show of appreciating the man's physique.

Fitz didn't miss the assessment and was surprised to be endeared by her brazen attitude.

The things he could do with that tongue...

Clearing his throat, he twirled the glass slightly and lowered his gaze.

"And you are...?"

"Olivia" she answered before Cyrus could.

Locked stares left them feeling like they were the only ones in the room. "How do you know Cyrus?" he asked in hushed tones, angling himself towards her.

"She was my student" Cyrus finally got a word in edgeways. He studied the two, not liking what was transpiring. He wanted to get his friend and leader as far away from the devil woman as he could. However, that would require an explanation, one he would never be ready to give. "And we used to work together" he added, trying to maintain his front.

"Oh, what do you do?" the president inquired, never looking away from the beautiful woman. Her skin glowed under the luminous glow of a thousand candles.

Olivia chanced a glance at the nervous Cyrus. She enjoyed how he was practically sweating bullets. "I clean up messes" she finally concluded, remaining vague but truthful. "I get answers" she added.

Fitz tried to intercept her veiled answers. "Legal?"

"Sure" she laughed, leaving Fitz in the dark. As much as he wanted to know what the joke was, he wanted to hear that sound more.

Instead, he dropped the empty glass onto the waiter's tray and turned back to her. "Well any friend of Cyrus is a friend of mine" he welcomed her with a charming smile.

Olivia felt enamoured with the power she bestowed at that moment. Both men, ranked highly in power, yet she had all their dirty secrets in a safe box in her head. Cyrus' overweighed his and the whole Republican party combined. It was quite...impressive.

"So, Mr. President..." she drawled out seductively. As much as she despised the silver spooned, trust fund baby image, she could admit that he wasn't bad to look at.

"Yes?"

Placing one hand onto his arm, she peeked up at him from under her lashes. "Think you can handle one dance?"

His lips quivered, until finally breaking into a grin. "My pleasure" he tried to keep his voice level and not focusing too much on her radiating warmth. Her gentle touch was soothing and the first from a woman in many years. He revelled in it and just as he decided to lead her towards the dance floor, his intentions were side-tracked.

"Sir, I wanted to talk to you about something..."

"In a moment Cy" he muttered swiftly, never sparing him a glance.

And with that, Cy was left standing on the edge of the dance floor, watching his best friend and sworn enemy glide across the floor.

Fitz knew it was not a good idea to be any closer to Olivia than he had to. Regardless, all common sense seemed to be out the window with her involved.

She spun around to the middle of the dance floor and stood there waiting. As soon as he was inches away, Olivia placed a possessive hand onto his shoulder while his palm fell easily onto the small of her back. He gritted his teeth at the feel of her soft skin with the open back satin dress.

Olivia didn't wait to confidently press her body onto his. A false pretence of innocence as she locked onto the sea-blue eyes. Her burning gaze traced his soft brown curls, his defining cheekbones and finally landing on his pursed lips. A crease formed between his furrowed brows as he mulled over something.

Olivia already knew that his wary thoughts were of her. It was in the way, he calculated himself around her. He was being too careful in the manner he held her. He would cast uncertain glances towards the crowd and seemed to count the second of how long he could stare at her. It was definitely an ego boost.

"Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown" she muttered wistfully.

Finally he gave up and acknowledged her fervent stare. "What makes you say that?"

"I saw you pretending to listen to the Ambassador. Also, I noticed that when you do move around, you never stray too far from the bar. I haven't seen you without a drink all night. Not to mention that your wife is constantly on the other side of the room so I doubt national security is your biggest problem. But let's not get into that right now"

Startled and beguiled, Fitz froze, unsure of what to make of her close observation. Her words were articulate and strategized to perfection. Her unwavering gaze was unsettling and perplexing. He felt exposed, bared to her and instantly grew guarded.

He blinked. "You were watching me?" he gritted, looking back up to the public while his hold on her tightened.

"Don't be so disconcerted" Olivia bristled. "Everyone is watching you"

The president was stupefied. Usually, people around him were flustered and often mentioned how much of an honour the moment was. However, Olivia seemed...defiant, unaffected by his position. It was definitely disarming, yet somehow it made him feel more at ease.

"You know, I wanted this and fought so hard for it. I just didn't expect it to actually happen" he found himself revealing to her. A thought that had often crossed his mind when he sat in the Oval office trying to materialise the dream. Two weeks after the inauguration ball and he was yet to comprehend that he was the leader of the free world.

Olivia's lips curved into a secretive smile. "Quite a bit of power"

Fitz shrugged but couldn't help the pride of knowing that he could impress her. "So, did I get your vote?" he asked teasingly but a big part of him was curious.

The strange and mesmerising woman put on a smile for the bystanders when confidently responding. "I'm apolitical"

"Yet you attend state dinners?" he challenged.

Olivia eyed him carefully. "I'm working, Mr. President" she replied truthfully. "I'm always working"

"Anything promising?" Fitz wondered, trying to break through her mystery.

She pressed her lips in a tight line and then her tongue darted out to her bottom lip. "I think so" she answered, her eyes now burning through his. Hers hooded, darkening the chocolate brown to a pit of desire. The feeling was mutual but he knew they were treading on dangerous territory.

"Ms. Lewis..." Fitz began, knowing that he needed to head a warning. Possibly for both their sakes.

"Call me Olivia" she pleaded with a lowered and husky tone.

Her intense gazes weren't helping the situation. "Only if you call me Fitz" he unravelled but mentally chastised himself for him impulsivity. However, he couldn't ignore the need to hear his name from her lips.

"Fitz?"

His name being called sent a chill down his spine, but only because it wasn't from the right person.

Both of them broke apart and turned to the approaching brunette. Her bun held back tightly making her features more taut and stern.

"Mellie..."

The First Lady narrowed her eyes, which darted between the two. Her husband's expression was aired with guilt while the woman she had stalked, stared back fearlessly. There was something about her that Mellie instantly disliked. If it hadn't been for the attention they had attracted, she might have missed it.

Maybe it was watching them dance together through the entire Concerto. Maybe it was how Fitz had looked at her. Maybe it was the fact that she was yet to remove her hand from her husband's arm... Any of these would warrant her annoyance.

Fitz had cleverly deduced the situation and taken a cautious step towards his wife's side. His lips briskly pressing on her cheek to ease her taciturn smile.

"Madame first lady, I was going to introduce myself" Olivia began and Fitz watched, impressed by her composure. "Olivia Lewis" she continued and offered a hand, which was accepted as both exchanged pleasantries.

Mellie smiled sweetly but Olivia saw through it. The tightening in her eyes and the way her lips pursed. A tightknit furrow between her recently plucked brows. Her jealousy was transparent and not just to her. Regardless, Olivia was not offended. In fact she couldn't help but be awed with the strength the woman portrayed.

Jerry was lucky the heart attack arrived before Olivia did. Of course she wasn't supposed to get involved in their lives but after reviewing surveillance and finding out what the bastard had done, Olivia searched for any reason to convince Rowan that the older Grant's life was meaningless.

"Miss. Lewis is a friend of Cyrus" Fitz explained, when all he could think about was reaching for the clip in her hair and allowing the curls to fall freely.

Olivia's previous thoughts now interrupted, reminded her of her position and why she had even attended the dinner. "Well it was certainly a pleasure to meet you both"

"You're leaving?" Fitz couldn't keep the sadness from his tone.

Unlike Mellie, Olivia pretended not to notice as she masked her pride with a smirk. "Still on the clock" she explained and curtly acknowledged Cyrus' distant observation. Then turning back to the guests of honour, she bowed her head slightly. "Mr. President, Madame First lady"

"I - We hope to see you again" he hastily corrected. All the while questioning what this woman had done to him.

"I have no doubt you will"

And with that, she disappeared into the crowd.

**cookiemonsterfanatic**: **"Are we gladiators or are we b*tches?"**


End file.
